To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there.
The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life.
We don't have to have blood relations in order to be brothers and sisters. Flesh and blood, those are just things that we're made of. In a real family, what matters is our hearts. We care, show concern and love. Anyone can be family too.
Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together.
I never look back at all. All of my sentiment and emotion goes into my family. I'm an extremely family oriented person and I have a very, very happy family life. That doesn't just include blood relations. I have friends who are close to me.
Exaggeration is a blood relation to falsehood and nearly as blamable.
A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.
The language of friendship is not words but meanings.
When you're dealing with an in-law violation, I think the first line of defense is for the blood relation to have a serious talk.
What is family? They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed in there, regardless. It wasn't just about blood relations or shared chromosomes, but something wider, bigger. Cora was right - we had many families over time. Our family of origion, the family we created, as well as the gorups you moved thorugh while all of this was happening: friends, lovers, sometimes even strangers. None of them were perfect, and we couldn't expect them to be. You couldn't make any one person your world. The trick was to take what each could give you and build a world from it.
Where a blood relation sobs, an intimate friend should choke up, a distant acquaintance should sigh, a stranger should merely fumble sympathetically with his handkerchief.
Knavery and flattery are blood relations.
It remains unbelievable to me that I have any readers beyond my own blood relations - it's a crazy, wild gift.
I think we all make our own families, whether they're comprised of blood relations or friends. Some people are lucky and love their families. Others aren't. But whom we spend time with is always a choice. Including our pets.
Love is blind; friendship closes its eyes.
True kindness is a pure divine affinity, Not founded upon human consanguinity. It is a spirit, not a blood relation, Superior to family and station.
The success of a play, especially one's first success, is somewhat like pushing against a door which is suddenly opened that was always securely shut until then. For myself, the experience was invigorating. It suddenly seemed that the audience was a mass of blood relations, and I sensed a warmth in the world that had not been there before. It made it possible to dream of daring more and risking more.
Never set a child afloat on the flat sea of life with only one sail to catch the wind.
I don't like your miserable lonely single front name. It is so limited, so meager; it has no versatility; it is weighted down with the sense of responsibility; it is worn threadbare with much use; it is as bad as having only one jacket and one hat; it is like having only one relation, one blood relation, in the world. Never set a child afloat on the flat sea of life with only one sail to catch the wind.
From the earliest times the Welsh have been looked upon as an unclean people. It is thus that they have preserved their racial integrity. Their sons and daughters rarely mate with humankind except their own blood relations.
Linda asked that morning what it was about Charlotte’s Web that Ally particularly liked; maybe it would help to think about that, since it was Ally’s model book. “I like the family that comes together in the barn,” Ally said without hesitation. “I like that they aren’t all the same thing; one is human and one’s a spider and one’s a pig. I like that it has nothing to do with blood relations, and everything to do with love.
An Albanian’s house is the dwelling of God and the guest.’ Of God and the guest, you see. So before it is the house of its master, it is the house of one’s guest. The guest, in an Albanian’s life, represents the supreme ethical category, more important than blood relations. One may pardon the man who spills the blood of one’s father or of one’s son, but never the blood of a guest.
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